Page 87 of Dirty Deadly & Mine
“I’ll pay triple what the bounty is,” I snap, and he eases up on my throat as he chuckles.
“I heard about that. You really do have bad luck.”
“Who are you?” I ask, confused as hell. “Aren’t you here to kill me to get the mill?”
“Pfft,” he scoffs. “That’s fucking pocket money. Besides, you’re more valuable to me alive.”
“Wait, what…” It hits me then.
This guy isn’t an assassin. He must be one of my stalkers. But which one?
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” he sneers, leaning in closer, giving me a better look at his face.
He has facial hair. A little bushy for my taste, but as far as I can tell, he’s attractive. But those eyes? They are unhinged.
“Remind me,” I snap, needing him to spell it out so I can figure out if he’s my text stalker or picture stalker.
My money is on text stalker since that’s the one who wanted something from me.
“I want you to help me take down your family.”
Ahhh, yes, it’s text stalker.
“And who are you, exactly?” I ask, and he shrugs.
“Who I am doesn’t matter.”
Reaching up, I shove his chest, and he lets me, taking a step back and slipping his gun into the back of his pants.
“I disagree,” I snap, jabbing a finger at him. “If I’m going to do business with you, then I need to knowwhoyou are.”
His jaw ticks.
“I’m someone Ewan Marx pissed off.”
I scoff. “Get in line.”
“I’m someone who knows his secrets. Knowsallof the family secrets.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m listening,” I murmur, crossing my arms over my chest.
“He needs to pay, and you’re going to help me do that.”
“How? I don’t have anything to do with my family anymore.”
Slowly, his lips spread into a shit-eating-grin. “Don’t lie to me, Lily. I know you keep in contact with your cousin, Barrett. Just tell him you want to go home and see your mum or something.”
I throw my head back laughing and turn away, moving across the cobblestones where I pick up my knife.
“Barrett would know I’m lying straight away.”
“Fine, then go home for the twenty-first birthday party. I hear every man and his dog is invited.”
I spin to face him, my brows high.
“Twenty-first? Whose?”
